


Panem's Angel

by Max11130



Series: Panem's Angel [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Hunger Games, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26715148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Max11130/pseuds/Max11130
Summary: Being a tribute in the Hunger Games isn't easy as District Seven tribute Darcie Hilton is about to discover. Even thought the games are a fairly new idea, Darcie knows that her possible death will be broadcast to every citizen in Panem. Will Darcie be able to make it out of the Capitol's torture game alive and back to her family and friends in Seven or will she just be another casualty in the games?
Series: Panem's Angel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944202
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

“Darcie Hilton!” my heart sank, I can’t do this, I can’t compete in the games, I’m too weak.

I step out of the crowd and make my way to the stage, everyone is silent, they know I won’t make it back alive, I’ll be dead before the games even start. Peacekeepers walk intimidatingly behind me to make sure I don’t run off, I walk up the steep stairs onto the dull and dark stage. All eyes are on me, My mother screams out in the adult stands. I try to conceal any and all tears to show the other districts and the capitol that I am strong, I might not survive, but sponsors will only give gifts to people who are seen as strong. Martie Blake puts his crooked hand into the male reaping bowl.

“The male representing District Seven is…” Martie always has dramatic pauses before he reads out the names. “Bobby Winter” Everyone starts looking for him.

Bobby Winter is seventeen, for someone a year older than me, I've only seen him at school and with his father around the district. His charcoal black hair was up in a quiff, I can tell he is the typical trainee carpenter type. Luckily for me, he isn’t a big intimidating guy like some of the other district seven boys are, but he still has a lean build meaning the other tributes will hopefully focus on him instead of me.

“Would anybody like to volunteer to take either of our chosen tributes’ place?” Silence. In the middle of district seven, not a sound could be heard. You could hear a pin drop. “Well, in that case, District Seven I present your tributes for the eighteenth hunger games, Darcie Hilton and Bobby Winter!”

The district stays silent, Martie is the only one clapping trying to entice the audience and grow moral.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour!” 

Martie quickly shuffles us into two separate rooms of the district seven justice building so we can say our last goodbyes to our family and friends. My mother and father are the first to say goodbye. “I’ll always love you, no matter what you do or what happens in the arena” my mom says through her thick tears. She’s helpless. Her first child being whisked away to compete for her life to appease some capitol in-habitants while she is about to deliver her second. I don’t expect to come back, I don’t expect to even make it past the cornucopia bloodbath. My father tries to console us while also fighting back his own tears. As the peacekeepers take my parents out of the room I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror next to me. I can’t feel it on my olive skin, but tears are dripping from my bloodshot brown eyes.

The door flies open and Willow enters. I can’t contain the tears, I’ve done practically everything with Willow, she’s my best friend, now she has to watch me die on national television. As she hugs me she whispers in my ear with her soft, soothing voice “Please win, for us” nothing else is said before peacekeepers barge into the room grabbing Willow by the skin of her arm and dragging her out, The door slams shut behind them

Silence fills the room as my eyes get even more puffy, my head throbbing and my nose stuffing up with anxiety. Is this a dream? Am I ever going to come home? Do I have it in me to kill and outlast twenty-four other scared children?

I place my head into my hands praying that I can survive. The door creaks open and peacekeepers step in to lead me to an obsidian black taxi.

Martie sits in the back seat waiting for his tributes, I get in next to him. “Darcie!” he screams, Martie’s Capitol accent is more noticeable that he isn’t being drowned out by the thoughts of death and dismay being shared by my district peers “Oh, isn’t this just fantastic!”. I don’t reply.

Minutes go by before Bobby steps towards the  dishevelled car. He’s silent, his red cheeks and darkened eyes prove he has been crying. “Lorcan and Wilbur will meet us on the train” Martie’s words fall on deaf ears. It’s like the capitol has been brainwashed to think their pawns in a game about murder don’t have feelings, it’s like our lives have less value then theirs cause we have to less money than them. I get a headache watching the trees of seven whiz past the taxi window.

As we arrive at the station peacekeepers form a barricade around the train station stopping everyone and anyone for getting to us. Lorcan Royce waits by the entrance. Lorcan won the 3rd hunger games. I never watched his games, but from what I heard he was seen as an underdog. He teamed up with the stronger, more well off districts before betraying them in the end game.

“Welcome to your transport to the Capitol” Lorcan says as he gestures us onto the train. “It’s better than what I got when I was your age!”

We step onboard to get a feel of the place. “This is the main cabin where we can sit and relax as the train travels to the capitol, In less than a day I might add.” Martie is always so excited for the games. “So don’t get too comfortable as better things await!”

The train cabin is filled with luxury and expensive items like silk curtains, carpeted floor, and mahogany tables. The Capitol denizens live in luxury and are negligent to the world’s suffering. Trays full of buns, cakes and sandwiches lie next to an assortment of what I can only assume is alcohol. Five cushioned chairs sit carefully in the middle of the train car, one of them is occupied. Wilbur Dudley, winner of the fifteenth hunger games.

Wilbur steps out of his chair “Hello” he says with confidence in his voice. Wilbur has always been cocky. The dude volunteered with so much spirit he was a Capitol favourite before he even got on stage, besides with a jawline like that, he was bound to make the Capitol citizens swoon.

Bobby and I stand in place taking in everything the train car has to offer, Art from the capitol dot the places on the walls that aren’t occupied by large windows.

“Well, looks like I'm mentoring again!” Wilbur says with a smile. Bobby and I take the two seats that are on their own facing toward the other three seats and a grand television screen. Wilbur and Lorcan take two of them, while Martie walks off into another car of the train.

Nothing but silence for a couple of minutes. Lorcan looks over at us with remorse.

“I’m sorry you have to be in this situation.” His fingers start to tremble with every word that leaves his chapped lips “This is going to be a hard couple of weeks, but don’t worry, Wilbur and I will get you through this.”

“Only one can leave the arena.” Wilbur’s cocky tone turns into one of anguish “But we’re going to make sure that Seven gets its third winner”

I turn to Bobby, In his deep blue eyes is a lone apologetic glare. Is he going to kill me in the arena? I start to choke up and tears rush down my cheeks.

Wilbur stands up, he wipes the tears away from my face. “Hey, I was in your position three years ago, I know it’s hard.” He takes a deep breath “In stressful situations, I find that a breathing exercise can help.”

He starts to breathe deeper. When I match my breathing with his I suddenly feel calm, Almost like I’ve been transported into a far off tranquil land, away from this train car, away from District Seven, away from Panem, away from the Hunger Games.

Martie walks back in holding two tapes. “Now do we watch Lorcan’s games or Wilbur’s games?” I understand that Martie wants us to study up on our past two Victors, but I just want a rest.

“Before we watch anything else, I suggest we watch the reaping's from the other districts so we can get a feel of what we have to work with.” Lorcan stands up to turn on the TV. The first district we see is one, I never knew how much of an event the Hunger Games is seen as in one. The boy has dark skin, brown hair and greyish eyes. The cameras mostly follow the girl from one. Lorcan pauses the TV.

“Senna Dawson” Lorcan clears his throat “Volunteer and Oldest Daughter of the 2nd Hunger Games victor Erika Dawson.” 

Lorcan tenses up after saying her name. During her games Erika berated the state of the other district tributes, calling us weak and inferior to District One saying how stupid people were for trying the pry from Capitol rule.

Senna has that typical District One look. Blonde hair, brown eyes, Capitol favourite. “If she is anything like her mother, you’re gonna have to look out for her” Lorcan stares right into the frozen frame of Senna before pressing play. 

My mind drifts when Lorcan explains the other tributes. The girl from district two has a history of karate while the boy from four’s father led the rebellion in his district. If I want to make it out, I’m going to have to survive these people who have trained for this moment in the last 10 or so years.

“Now be careful, Districts One, Two and Four are not to be trusted” Wilbur emphasized “They always come together and form the Career alliance, never trust them under any circumstance!”

Career tributes usually make it far in the games, they have stronger, smarter and well off tributes. It’s never a surprise when a privileged career tribute from District One overpowers the starved hopeless tribute from District Twelve.

Speeding through the reaping most of the tributes start merging together, all having the same unknown faces and soon to be forgotten names. I notice that both tributes from District Eight are only twelve years old, while the District Nine girl looks like she could kill anyone or anything with her bare hands.

“Now, maybe a bit of relaxation?” Martie suggests before snatching the remote from Lorcan’s hand “If you kids are going to get knowledge from anything it’s one of our previous victor’s games!”

After messing around with some buttons, the screen lights up with the word ‘The 15th Annual Hunger Games’ Martie fast forwards through everyone’s reaping apart from District Seven’s.

“The female tribute for the fifteenth annual hunger games is…” Martie copies the movements he made only three years ago. “Emberly Fairburn!” Emberly’s face pops up on the screen, I remember this reaping clear as day. It was my second year being able to have my name called. Emberly was a year older than me, she was so shocked she could hardly move onto the stage, Peacekeepers dragged her after she removed herself from the fourteen year old’s section. The camera focused on Emberly as Martie went to pick out the name of the male tribute.

“The male tribute representing District Seven is…” Martie picks up the hapless piece of paper “Gideon Wembley!”

As Gideon is half-way to the stage a presumptuous voice can be heard in the background, followed by the raising of an arm. “I volunteer as tribute!” A younger, less leaner Wilbur appears on the screen, pushing past the other boys on his way to the justice hall stage. 

“Well this is a surprise” Martie sounds excited and confused. “Tell the district, who are you and why did you volunteer?”

The microphone is shoved into Wilbur’s face. “I’m Wilbur Dudley, I’m sixteen years old, and I’m volunteering to save my friend Gideon”

Martie claps for Wilbur while the rest of us give him a concerned look.

“The fifteen’s hunger games have always been my favourite!” Martie says with a smile “Not that your games weren’t bad Lorcan.”

As everyone watches the TV I go over to sit by a large window. We’re quite high up overlooking a desolate river surrounded by lush cedar trees. About an hour or so passes before Lorcan touches me on the shoulder.

“I know this situation isn’t ideal for anyone.” Lorcan licks his lips thinking of what to say “Between you and me, I think you have what it takes to win this thing.”

“Really?” I ask, my voice cracks half way through.

“I’ve seen you around Seven, you’re good with a carving knife” Lorcan shows me a wooden ring on his left hand. “Did you make this ring?”

The ring is made out of discarded scraps of wood from my father’s mill. Mockingjays are seen with roses in their beaks flying around a big tree with the number seven carved into the tree.

“Yeah, I did.” I hold Lorcan’s hand flat in mine to get a better look at it. “It was my mother’s idea to make a ring to commemorate everyone who enters the games who come from seven.”

“Well, this ring commemorates you now.” Lorcan pats me on the back before returning to the others. The rest of the day is slow, occasionally hearing Martie scream and cheer for different tributes in Wilbur’s games, gives me a scare. The others have gathered round a buffet table with all sorts of treats from the Capitol. I walk over to see what’s still available.

“Come to finally indulge in some Capitol Cuisine?” Wilbur asks in his always arrogant voice. “Possibly the only upside to competing in the games.”

My eyes linger between a Victoria sponge and a Battenberg. I’ve never tasted anything on this table back home. My father owns a mill, but that brings in hardly enough money to properly feed three people. I shove a slice of Victoria sponge cake on a plate, as I turn around to sit at the table I bump right into Bobby.

“Oh my gosh!” I yell, grabbing a napkin from the table trying to wipe the jam from the cake off of Bobby’s cyan shirt.

“Don’t worry about it.” Bobby pushes me away “It’s fine.” He storms off into the next car of the train.

“Is everything alright?” Martie appears behind me. I shake my head with despair “It’s been a long day, maybe you should get some rest.”

Martie directs me to one of the tribute suites on the train. Unlike the main car, the tribute suites are dull. No wall decorations, no grand windows, just a double bed with sad grey duvets and a curtain that is thinner than one ply toilet paper. I lay my head on the silk pillow, before I drift off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

A shock of electricity jolts through my body launching me up right. Did I have a bad dream? I notice a clock in the corner of the dim and dull room. 2:33 AM. I attempt to go back to sleep, but the heavy sound of the train tracks cloud my head. I rise to go check on the main cabin to see if any of the others are awake.

The main carriage is still well lit, Bobby sits alone in one of the chairs facing the window.

“Unable to sleep?” I say in a timid undertone. I’m left wondering if he hates me because of the cake incident.

“This is all kinds of messed up.” he continues to stare out the window. “Sending twenty-four kids off to kill each other for the amusement of adults.”

I take the empty seat next to him, occasionally glancing in between the view outside and Bobby’s facial expressions. “I’m sorry that we never had a good first impression.”

I’ve never noticed that Bobby’s smile can light up a room. I can’t help but notice a wooden ring on Bobby’s hand. Unlike Lorcan’s ring it has a different design. The same large tree can be seen, but this time the number 3 can be seen inside of the tree while two Mockingjays can be seen holding the numbers ‘2’ and ‘0’.

“Hey, you have one of my mother's rings.” I hold his hand flat trying to get a better look.

“Uh, Yeah, My father gave it to me just before my first reaping.” He moves in to also get a better look. “Do you know what the carving means?”

“Well…” I pause trying to remember what this ring means. “It was originally sold by my mother at the time of the third hunger games to celebrate Lorcan’s win, but it also has a different meaning.”

“Really? What is it?” Bobby interrupts before I can tell him.

“You see that two, three and zero.” I point the three numbers out to him. “The two and the zero come together to make twenty, that represents the twentieth while the three represents the third month, march.”

“And if you bring them together it makes the twentieth of march.” He grabs hold of my hand. “Your parent’s anniversary.”

I laugh. I didn’t exactly think the boy I would get reaped with would know my parent’s anniversary. “So, how did you know?”

“Well, I apprentice at your dad’s mill.” Bobby starts getting more confident. “Sometimes, when we finish our work early, he talks about you and your mom.”

I start to tear up at the thought of my dad talking about me in high regard. Sometimes he doesn’t even acknowledge that he has a family, it’s like he lives in his own little world and my mother and I are just two background pieces. Who would blame him though, his mental state was ripped apart during the rebellion.

“He’s always talking about how you’re his little angel and that if the capitol ever tries to take you away he will fight to the ends of the Earth to get you back.” Bobby notices the tears in my eyes. He puts my head on his shoulder and wraps his arm around me. “When he talks about you, he makes me forget about how messed up Panem really is.”

We sit in silence for a while, his warm embrace manages to get me back to the sleep I so desperately wanted.

The sun light blares through the window. Loud clapping echoes inside my head. “Wake up!”

I open my eyes to the blinding sun. I’m still in Bobby’s bare arms. We must've slept like this all night. “We’ve got a long schedule today so get dressed and report back here in five minutes for breakfast!” Martie’s commanding voice can be heard all over the carriage. I look over at Bobby, who was also awoken by Martie’s deafening commands.

I walk back to my tribute suite, as I step into the room I see my reaping dress lying flat on the floor. I pick it up and throw it on. 

Back in the main car everyone is sitting around a table with breakfast. I take a seat at the table across from Wilbur.

“So, how do we get sponsors?” Bobby says out of the blue “I mean, we are arriving in the capitol later.”

Wilbur laughs as he spreads butter on his toast. “District seven tributes haven’t received sponsors in years. We may be good with axes, but most of the time we die a couple of days after the bloodbath.”

Lorcan punches Wilbur in the arm. “These are people’s kids Wilbur!” Lorcan goes red in the face “It’s our job to get them through the games!” Wilbur holds his arm as Lorcan tries to calm down.

“While it is true we haven’t received many sponsors in the last couple of years, one of the main ways to get sponsors is to get people to like you” Lorcan sips his orange juice. “To get people to like you, you have to score big in the private training session.”

The private training sessions try to emulate what the tribute will be like in the arena. One year a girl from six got a ten on her private training session, but she was the first to die. On the flip side, during the thirteenth hunger games, the boy from District Four scored a two in his private training, but managed to win the entire thing. So the only thing the private sessions show is who the Capitol citizens are going to support.

Martie starts pacing up and down the train car. “Martie, calm yourself, everything is going to be fine!” Wilbur says in a smooth and calm accent.

“Oh I’m not stressed.” Martie starts pacing faster. “I’m excited, This is my favourite time of year!” Martie gasps before flopping down in one of the chairs. While the boys laugh at Martie, I look out the window.

Suddenly the Pine trees start to disperse and the mountains part. I step out of my chair, Bobby follows slowly behind.

“Is that the Capitol?” I’m dazed. I’ve seen it on TV before the games, but looking at it in person is so much better. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful…”

“Enjoy it while it lasts kids, but just remember, a view like this never gets old.” Martie is up from his chair.

Suddenly the view turns dark. “What happened?” Bobby asks.

“We’ve entered the capitol tunnel.” Wilbur says with toast in his mouth. “Any minute now we will arrive in the capitol, Prepare to be blinded by their wigs.”

The bright lights of the tunnel race past the train window, each one moving further and further apart from each other.

Capitol citizens takeover the darkness as the train slows down at the station. Everyone is waving and cheers for us. I knew the games were a hit in the Capitol, but I didn’t know they were this big! 

The train comes to a halt as peacekeepers push some of the citizens away from the train so we can step out.

Their cheers are deafening. Wilbur is almost jumped on by one of the girls in the crowd. I look at Bobby hoping for some comfort, but he’s just as concerned as I am.

We get ushered into a building opposite the train station where most of the other tributes are behind separate screens. Lorcan turns to me.

“Welcome to the remake centre.” Lorcan says opening his arms to make us take it all in. “This is where you will meet your prep teams”

A lone peacekeeper with a clipboard walks over to us. “Bobby Winter, District Seven.” His deep voice startles Bobby as he walks forward. The peacekeeper points to a booth at the end of the hall. 

Lorcan walks with Bobby to his assigned space. The peacekeeper scans his list again “Wait here.” I’m left with Wilbur and Martie.

“Oh what’s this hold up.” Martie says as he throws a mini hissy fit. “This is ridiculous.” 

“Calm down Martie, the same thing happened during my games.” Wilbur puts his arm on my shoulder. “Quick this is our chance to run!”

“You make that joke every year Wilbur.” Martie says in a harsh tone. “One year a peacekeeper is going to over hear you and you will be executed on the spot for treason.”

Several minutes pass before the Peacekeeper with a clipboard returns. “Darcie Hilton, District Seven” I step forward and he points at a booth at the other end of the hall from Bobby’s booth.

“That wait was outrageous!” Martie stands up to the Peacekeeper. “You wasted the valuable time of one of my tributes!”

Wilbur ushers me to the booth. “Let’s get out of here before things turn ugly.”

I walk down the pristine hallway, I hear many sudden screams of pain. I start to shake out of nervousness.

“Don’t worry about that.” Wilbur’s reassuring tone manages to block out the rest of the screams. “It’s just the prep teams waxing your fellow tributes to get them ready to meet their head stylist.”

We arrive at one of five empty booths. Three heavily modified capitolites stand huddled around an equipment table. I turn around to face Wilbur, but he's disappeared. I reface my Prep team.

“Ah Welcome, Welcome!” A man with dark skin, bright orange hair and long eyelashes hands me what looks like a hospital gown. “Put this on and we’ll be able to get you to the boss sooner!”

I’m thrown into a tiny dressing room behind my booth, With only a small curtain disconnecting me from the Prep team. I remove my reaping dress and replace it with the hospital gown,

“Perfect!” Another member of the team with bright green eyes and makeup that looks like they’ve been smacked with icing sugar takes my dress and directs me to the table in the middle of the booth.

Minutes go by before a wax strip is ripped off my leg. I can’t contain the scream. “My god she’s loud” comes from one of the prep team members. Each strip hurts more than the last. After what felt like hours I’m finally given a rest as they start hosing me down with cold water. 

After they clip my nails, design my hair into a side ponytail, and do my make up, I’m wheeled into a room across from the booth. “Where am I going?” I can’t move much, It feels like I'm in shackles, but nothing is holding me down.

“You’re off to meet the boss.” The only woman prep team member as she pushes me along.

I’m placed in the middle of the room, All three of the prep team members leave the room, A lock is engaged, presumably so that I don’t try and escape.

I stay facing the blinding light above me before the door reopens. A woman, In about her mid 20s, walks in. I sit up to face her. She’s a pink beacon of hope, Everything from her shoes to conservative, In capitol terms, dress to her hair and make up is pink. She walks over to me, Her heel clicks echo around the desolate room. She takes a seat on a stool adjacent to me

“I’m sorry that you have to be in this situation.” She doesn’t have the posher tones that most capitol citizens do in their voice. “I’m Hannah Ipameri and I’m your head stylist.”

Hannah Ipameri. Her name rolls off the tongue...Suddenly it starts flooding back to me. Hannah Ipameri, The youngest stylist to ever be hired as a head stylist. Her work has always been impressive.

“So are you going to make me appeal to the capitol?” I ask in a timid tone

“I’m going to make you look respectable and strong.” Hannah leans forward and puts her hands onto mine “I’m going to help get you through this!”

She stands up, still holding my hand and pulls me up from the bed. I’m positioned in front of a side dressing room and ordered to wait. From behind the curtain Hannah pulls out this beautiful walnut wood dress. The midsection has intricate designs that signify different tree types found back home in seven.

“Watch this.” She places her hand at the neck area of the dress, Suddenly the dress starts to expand turning from an astonishing nightlife dress into a magnificent wedding type gown. Panels of birch and mahogany protrude out to form the extended skirt. “You could probably label all the wood on this dress, heck even the trees that were cut to make it, all this wood came from seven.”

She pulls me into the dressing room, hands me the dress and leaves me alone to put it on. A tall mirror stands in front of me, I steadily step into the dress, making sure not to scratch any of the wood panels on the solid steel floor.

Each curve of the dress fits perfectly. I’ve never felt so free in anything in my life, But this...this changes everything.

I step out of the dressing room in birch like heels to see the stylist in pink taken aback by seeing me in her creation. “You...You look absolutely stunning!” Hannah quickly turns around and grabs something out of her handbag. “I did some research into you before you got here and discovered your dad owns a mill back home, so I made you this.”

She presents me with a crown hand crafted entirely out of wood. “Each piece of wood on that crown, went through your dad’s mill!” Knowing I have a piece of my family on top of my head brings me joy. I don’t know if I’m ever going to see them again, but this crown gives me hope.

“I love it!” I give the dress a bit of a twirl, For a dress made entirely out of wooden planks is surprisingly light. “How did you make this such a lightweight dress?”

She puts a finger to her lips. “That’s a stylist's secret.” she says before she corrects my hairs that have fallen out of place. She takes a look at her wristwatch, which is also pink, “Twenty minutes to go before the Chariot rides.”

She doesn’t seem as excited as most capitol citizens do, It’s almost like she’s one of the few people who don’t enjoy the whole glorified event of killing people’s kids for entertainment.

We step out of the room to see Bobby, His stylist and the rest of the gang waiting for me to leave.

“Woah…” Bobby says under his breath. He wears a suit made out of the same wood from my dress, he also has a similar, yet slightly smaller, crown than mine. 

“Oh, It’s like you’re both the King and Queen of District Seven!” Martie can’t contain his excitement any longer

“Well, When I found out Hannah was leading the District Seven Team, I knew you guys were going to be in good hands!” Bobby’s stylist is the complete opposite of Hannah clothing wise. She is covered head to toe in black clothing, even her eyes are blacked out, But unlike Hannah her capitol accent is extremely noticeable and seems genuinely excited for the games to start.

“Oh come on now Fauna, you’ve styled tributes since the first games, take some credit.” Hannah attaches a wooden rose to Bobby’s suit jacket “I couldn’t make a boys and girls chariot outfit by myself, this was our brain child”

“I have a brainchild with Hannah Ipameri!” Fauna squeals a little bit into her hand just as three peacekeepers walk over. The same one with the clipboard has brought back up

“Darcie Hilton and Bobby Winter, District Seven” The peacekeeper with a clipboard points to the district seven chariot “Martie, Lorcan and Wilbur, your seats in the stands are ready.”

Martie starts to walk away. Lorcan and Wilbur stay behind for a couple of seconds “Good luck, you have nothing to worry about!” Lorcan tries to counsel us while Wilbur just gives us both a thumbs up, They follow Martie toward the spectator stands while Bobby, Hannah, Fauna and I walk over to the tribute chariots.

All of the other tributes are standing around their chariots. Everyone seems to be sizing up the other tributes. The girl from two keeps giving me a dirty look, while the girl from one, I think her name was Senna, seems to be mouthing something towards me.

“Now I want you to press that button at the back of your neck to extend the dress into the gown form when you see the big screen on your chariot.” Hannah re pushes the button to turn the dress back into a nightlife dress. “Bobby, I want you to press the button at the side of your crown when you see yourself on the screen.”

“Final touches people!” The Peacekeeper with the clipboard guide other peacekeepers to put us on the chariots. 

“I’m trying to get across the notion that you two are the king and queen of district seven, so try and act like royalty when you wave to the capitol.” Hannah says as she dusts off Bobby.

I step onto the chariot with Bobby, He grabs hold of my hand “We have nothing to worry about.”


	3. Chapter 3

The two black horses get into line, behind the District Six tributes and in front of the District Eight tributes. “Do you think they're going to like us?” I ask Bobby, with an even firmer grip on his hand.

“I’m sure we’ve got this in the bag.” Bobby says with a confident yet faltering voice. The chariot jolts forward signalling the start of the tribute chariot ride.

The crowd gets louder and louder as our chariot starts to speed up. We ride through the tunnel and we arrive down the Avenue of the Tributes. Everyone’s hair and clothing colours merge together to form an extremely blurry rainbow. I remember to keep an eye on the screens so I know when to reveal my dress’ true form. Bobby looks over at me with a smile. I can’t hear what he says over the cheers from the capitol, but he suddenly raises our hand and the cheers and scream from the capitol get louder. Our faces show up on the grand television in front of us. This is our cue.

I press the button on the back of my dress. The wooden panels expand outward reforming the gown that it’s meant to be. Bobby presses his button and his crown starts growing taller. It reveals itself as a small mahogany tree. The crowd turns even more deafening than it was before.

I can’t stop smiling, I knew the games were this big event where stylists can show their talent and the rich can flaunt their money, I didn’t know that this experience would put a smile on my face.

I continue waving as we go down the avenue. I manage to spot Lorcan, Wilbur and Martie waving and cheering from the crowd. We start slowing down as the chariot reaches the city circle. President Ravinstill stands high above the rest of us ready for his speech. The chariots get into position before he tells the crowd to be quiet.

“Welcome to the eighteenth Hunger Games!” His booming voice makes the capitol citizens react with cheers. “In front of me today are twenty-four courageous men and women who are here to be the pride of Panem and to make history!”

I can’t help but have a feeling of admiration for him, but also a sense of fear. A man, so powerful, is able to control a nation of people and make them send their kids into an arena to fight to the death. I can’t help but feel that something so much worse could have come out of the rebellion.

“These men and women will show how hard their district fights and works.” Ravinstill starts clapping “So, a big round of applause for the tributes!” The crowds in the stands start clapping as we go back down the avenue of the tributes back to Hannah and the rest of the stylist.

We race down the avenue before arriving back with Hannah and Fauna.

“You did everything perfectly!” Hannah hugs me and presses the button turning my dress back into a nightlife dress. “The capitol loves you!”

Martie comes running over “That was amazing!” His face lights up with each word “You really made an impression the Capitol will remember for years!”

In the corner of my eye I see the girl from District One despising me. She looks away from me when I make official eye contact. 

“What’s her problem?” Bobby says in a soft tone so the others don’t hear

“I’m not sure?” I can only guess what her problem is. “Maybe she’s jealous of our outfits while all she got was a blue furry explosion!” We laugh to ourselves

“Anyway, Come on you two, I need to take you to our suite!” Martie extends his arm grabbing us to follow him. “This suite is amazing, one of the best the tribute quarters has to offer!”

“Are you only saying that because you’ve only been in the District Seven suite?” Bobby smiles while I start laughing.

“Attitude!” Martie points his crooked finger at the lean boy beside me.

We enter the Training centre and enter a tall pod like elevator, Martie hits the button that has the number seven on it. “The seventh floor for the District Seven tributes!” 

The doors close and the elevator starts moving at a rapid speed. “If you thought you’ve been in the Capitol, you haven't seen anything yet!” Martie says while straightening his tie and fixing his hair “Get ready to live the capitol lifestyle before the games!”

I get shocked by the velocity that the doors shoot open at. Everything is a blur before we step out into the Suite.

“Welcome to Suite Seven!” Martie throws his arms up in the air like we’re supposed to take in every detail. Everything has a glamorous mahogany finish. I step forward to get a better look at the rest of the main room. Two elegant posters hold a firm place at the top of the room.

“I see you’ve spotted my victory poster.” Wilbur’s voice startles me, He stands beside me and points up to his poster. “You see how young I looked there?”

Wilbur’s face was less chiseled as it is now. He is seated on what looks like a small runway with what can only be assumed as mirror lights form a neat formation behind him.

“Are you serious?” Lorcan comes up behind Wilbur. “You’ve only aged three years! How can you look ‘young’”

“Well first off all my hair is darker.” Wilbur rushes his hand through his hair to pose. Lorcan gives Wilbur a straight look making Wilbur stop posing.

“If anyone looks younger in their Victory tour poster it’s Lorcan.” Bobby points to Lorcan’s poster.

A younger, healthier looking Lorcan just stands almost deadpan in the centre, Lorcan’s name is visible, but nothing about a victory tour. I notice that both posters seem to have a small tag line, ‘The Silent Assassin’ can be seen on Lorcan’s poster and ‘Panem’s Bad Boy’ is visible on Wilbur’s.

“Why doesn’t Lorcan’s poster talk about a victory tour?” I ask.

“Well it’s not actually a victory tour poster, I never had one, back then the hunger games weren't the big, fashionable event it is now.” Lorcan folds his arms across his chest. “We didn’t get the nice travel, the nice suites, the training or the interviews. We were handcuffed and shoved into the back of a rancid, cargo train car, left to rot and starve in an empty zoo pen, some died before the games, then we would get shoved into the Old Amphitheatre and told to fight until one of us is left, then after winning we would get shipped right back to the district we came from, no hero’s welcome, no victory tour, no house in victor’s village and certainly no monthly check.”

Lorcan has always seemed like someone who hated the situation he was forced into, when the victor’s village in seven was complete, Lorcan rushed to claim his house ready to lock himself away from the country that betrayed him.

“What are those little tag lines under your names?” I ask, pointing at them. As words start to form at the base of Wilbur’s lips, Martie butts in.

“Those are Capitol nicknames!” Martie seems to have an elegant ring to his accent now. “It’s a way of identifying our favourite tributes, and promoting the Victory Tour.”

“It also gives the victor’s some character, and when people look back at the tagline, they can get an idea on the victor’s personality, or style in the games.” Lorcan adds to the conversation. Lorcan’s tagline may have made sense fifteen years ago, but not so much anymore. While Wilbur is at the forefront of most District Seven celebrations and events, Lorcan is in his house, screaming and throwing glass at his walls, Wilbur’s parents have complained to Mayor Rose about Lorcan’s noise down Victor’s Village several times.

“I wonder what my tagline will be?” Bobby asks.

“Well...Most tributes don’t get taglines until the interviews or the actual games.” Martie puts Bobby down gently. “Speaking of interviews we should go over the hunger games itinerary I have prepared!” 

Martie guides us over to the long red leather couch in the middle of the room. He stands across from the rest of us holding a vast folder containing piles of documents.

“Right so tomorrow, Bobby and Darcie, you will both have your first day of training.” The thought of training sends a shock down my spine. Getting to see the other tributes up close and personal before the games can be a haunting. These people all have the same goal, Kill the others so they can get home, All but one will meet the person who will end their life tomorrow. 

Martie keeps blabbering on about what we're doing on the lead up to the games, Three days of training, private session with the game makers, interview practice before the actual interview. This plan has all gone to Martie’s head.

“Martie, maybe you should bring it down a notch.” Wilbur gets up from his slouched position to close the binder.

“But if we want another winner from District Seven, we need a plan.” Martie tries to rally support from Lorcan.

“Look, it’s been a long day.” Lorcan turns to his two tributes. “Let’s all get some rest and start this whole plan in the morning.” 

We’re guided down a long broad hallway. The walls are covered in synthetic branches and leaves, representative of District Seven. Two mahogany doors stand across from each other in the middle of the hallway.

“Here are your rooms, If you need anything Wilbur and I will be in the two rooms at the end of the hallway.” Lorcan opens my door for me. “This can be a horrifying experience, but we will get through it as a team.”

I walk into the extravagant bedroom. The same design theme from the hallway is continued in here. A green sheepskin blanket is drawn out across the cotton soft duvet. I changed into the capitol provided pyjamas before crawling into the bed. A grand floor to ceiling window faces toward what seems to be an awe-inspiring stage. Bright lights flicker around my room from the very same stage. As I walk barefoot to the window on the cold, hard steel flooring, noise from the capitol gets louder. 

I slide open the window, allowing more noise and cold air into my luxurious bedroom. People cheer before what I can only assume to be an Interview continues. A big screen is outside of the interview stage for people who can’t get in.

“So what do you think about the tributes?” Lucretius ‘Lucky’ Flickerman’s face pops up on the screen. Lucky has always been a capital face of the Hunger Games, He has everything a good host needs: charisma, intelligence and knows how to get a reaction out of people.

The camera pans over to who I think is the head game maker. He has bright purple hair that matches his almost ash white skin.

“Well, if I have to guess who is going to win, I’m going to go with District One’s Senna Dawson!” He compliments the District One girl in his high pitched, camp voice. Of course he would, District One has the most wins out of any other District with only Two, Four and Seven close behind. “She is the daughter of the second hunger games victor, Erika Dawson, so she will be a really tough competitor for the other tributes, But if there is anyone I’m rooting for it’s those two from District Seven!” The crowd cheers, I can’t believe it! People are rooting for us. I get a strange fuzzy feeling in my gut, I must continue listening to what he has to say.

“Their chariot rides were the best of the night!” Bobby and I pop up on the screen outside of the interview building. “They really looked like they were the king and queen of District Seven! Hannah Ipameri and Fauna are really talented stylists and both deserve high praise from their joint chariot ride.”

“I’m Actually wearing some of Hannah Ipameri’s designs right now!” Lucky shows off his ostentatious suit and tie to the viewing audience, countless spectators try to show off their Ipameri designs. “I see your suit jacket is also part of the Ipameri line, Felix!”

The crowd cheer as Felix stands up and shows the capitol his  amethyst  purple tailor-made Ipameri suit jacket, Lucky stands up next to him and pats him on the back.

“Everyone give it up for the head game maker of the eighteenth hunger games!” He pauses for dramatic effect, and to sync up with the background music. “Felix Lucius!”

I close the window as the Panem national anthem plays. The bedrooms heating system kicks in as the bitter air of the capitol stops pouring in from the window. I re-enter the cotton bed and fall asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a tribute in the Hunger Games isn't easy as District Seven tribute Darcie Hilton is about to discover. Even thought the games are a fairly new idea, Darcie knows that her possible death will be broadcast to every citizen in Panem. Will Darcie be able to make it out of the Capitol's torture game alive and back to her family and friends in Seven or will she just be another casualty in the games?

Loud screams of joy from outside my window wake me up, the comfy fortress the capitol provided for me to sleep on almost made me forget I'm competing for my life in a couple of days.

Martie barges into my room holding what looks like a tracksuit with some heavy combat boots to match.

“Rise and Shine, todays a big day!” Martie throws the tracksuit right at me. “It’s your first day of training, so get these on and meet us in the dining room for breakfast, you have 20 minutes too get changed and to eat.”

I remove myself from the bed and exchange my sleepwear for the slightly uncomfortable training uniform.  I number seven is boldly placed on both sides of the short sleeve.  Everything in the Capitol is comfy, except the lower part of my back starts feeling itchy because of a loose tag that they hopefully forgot to remove.

Fresh cooking air wafts past my door just after I open it, bacon and eggs.  The smell beckons me to the grand dining table where my mentors and the escort sit consuming their cuisine.

“The food manages to get better and better every year!” Wilbur says after shoving a whole hash brown into his mouth. “What’s the Capitol secret?”

“That is for the Capitol to know and the District riffraff like us to find out.” Lorcan pats Wilbur on the back before standing up and pointing at one of the two empty chairs.  “It’s great you could finally join us Darcie!” One seat holds firm next to Martie, while the other is at the end of the table facing towards the elevator.  I take the end seat so that I don’t have Martie’s boney elbow jabbing into me every time he cuts his bacon.  The boys start chatting again as a petite pale ivory hand delicately places a plate of food in front of me.  I look up to see an eerie washed out face of a girl, then it hits me.  It’s Elowen Meadow.

Elowen was always a smart girl back in District Seven.  She had plans to be mayor, if not that, maybe even one of the owners of the many paper production companies that dot seven’s landscape.  She could make anyone laugh, could settle any argument and in the event that a teacher couldn’t teach for the day she would step up and take their place.  She was athletic too, if anyone could win the games it would be Elowen.  Everyone in District Seven liked her, everyone except for the peacekeepers.  If anyone committed a small crime in Seven the peacekeepers would be on the Meadow’s instantly.  Her father was always whipped, mother always shouted at, herself and her younger brother and sister always getting beaten.  Nobody could stand how the peacekeepers treated them, but nobody had the courage to step in their way.  It wasn’t until a few years ago when the district had enough of Elowen’s father getting all the blame.  During his public beating many people rushed to stop the Head Peacekeeper, Alder Windflower.  Many people were killed, others got beaten.  Elowen’s mother and siblings were hung right outside the justice building while she escaped the District.  People thought she was dead, tracked down and killed by the hands of Peacekeeper Windflower himself, but instead she is a tongue-less servant for the people of the capitol.

She gave me a faint smile as to communicate that she remembered who I was.  I wish I could tell her that justice was served when Peacekeeper Windflower was fired, and hopefully executed, a few months later, after being caught soliciting some of the District Seven women.

Bobby walked out of the hallway and joined us at the table.  “The gangs all here!” Martie says pulling out the chair next to him so Bobby could sit down and eat.

Bobby’s face drops as he notices Elowen.  He quickly breaks his gaze and looks directly at me.  Seeing a classmate and friend get turned into an Avox is just surreal.  She walks away to stand guard at the wooden pillars.  Martie speaks up and thankfully drowns out any thought of Elowen’s suffering.

“The head game maker, Felix Lucius, he was talking about you two on TV last night?” Martie explains before gulping down half a cup of his coffee.

“He said he’s rooting for us, but ultimately thinks that Senna from district one is going to win.” Everyone gives me a confused look.  Did I commit a crime by listening to the end half the head game maker’s interview?

“How did you know that?” Bobby speaks first

“I couldn’t sleep and the bright lights from the stage got into my bedroom.” I notice Martie is getting excited because he finally has someone to talk about this interview with “I opened the window  and had a little listen.”

“Wasn’t it magnificent!” Martie leans over Bobby a little to get immersed in the conversation more “Imagine, the Head Game maker rooting for my two District Seven tributes!”

Wilbur scoffs at Martie’s mention of Felix rooting for us . “He’s only rooting for District Seven because Hannah worked on our chariot.” Everyone looks at Wilbur with scepticism “Felix and Hannah have been dating for almost their whole involvement in the  game's production.”

Speak of the devil and she shall appear, The elevator doors fly open.  Hannah and Fauna walk out, their high heel boots click around the apartment.  Elowen and the other Avoxes rush to the kitchen to fetch them drinks.

“Good morning everyone!” Fauna stands excitedly throwing her hands up into the air “First day of training, must be so nerve racking!” She’s got that right, I don’t know if today is gonna put a target on my back or not.

“You’re training outfits made it to the room alright.” It still surprises me how Hannah is so respected and looked upon in the capitol, but sounds like she comes from one of the districts.

“I hope I got the measurements right, didn’t want any clothing to be too tight for the big first day of training!” Fauna giggles while holding onto Hannah’s slender arm for support.  Bobby rises from his seat to show that his outfit is indeed, tight.  Fauna rushes him into his bedroom to loosen up the fabric on Bobby's outfit.  Hannah walks over and snatches Bobby’s seat.  Elowen carefully places the black coffee in front of Hannah.

“So we have a big day ahead!” Martie neatly places his knife and fork together on his empty plate.  My hands start to tremble, I can’t bear the thought of seeing the faces of people that will soon suffer the same fate as 391 other tributes before us, and only one of us will join the lucky 17 to become the lucky 18.  The adult's conversation is blurred out by my thoughts.  Suddenly Martie checks his watch as Bobby walks out of his bedroom with a slightly less tight training shirt.

“Well training is about to begin!” Martie points at me to rise from my chair.  The elevator doors fly open again and he walks in.  I give a slight wave to Elowen before Bobby comes up next to me.

“I didn’t think she would ever be an Avox.” His minty breath encases the air around us. “If anyone could make it to District Thirteen, it would be Elowen.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, District Thirteen has been destroyed since the end of the rebellion and the signing of the treaty of treason.  The Capitol always has a camera broadcasting Thirteen to remind the other districts that if they step out of line they would become the same rubble pile as Thirteen.

“I’ll tell you later.” Bobby says with a smile as we step inside the elevator.  Martie’s face crinkles up as he presses the button labelled ‘T’.  We start zooming down the side of the building.

“Now remember, you’re not only impressing the game makers, but you’re also showing the other tributes what you’re capable of.” There he goes again with the capitol cloth over his eyes.  The tributes want to dull down their skills until the private sessions, You would have to be some kind of stupid to show everyone you can throw a knife from a far distance...or would it be good to show that off so people don’t mess with you?

The lights go out as the doors open to reveal Felix Lucius standing in front of a line of Peacekeepers.  Martie pushes me and Bobby forward.

“Welcome to the Capitol training centre.” Felix has a more husky masculine voice than he did last night, probably from all the talking during his interview, “Just stand over in that area over there and we can get started shortly.” He disappears into a door labelled ‘Game makers’ off to the side.  Some of the other tributes stand in the same small area.

I hear them talking amongst themselves, some even pointing and others laughing.  I notice the District One and Four tributes are looking at the small twelve year old girl from District Eight.  Everyone else seems intimidating. The District Ten male seems to be plotting the deaths of everyone else, while the girl from nine cracks her knuckles so loud they make her District partner jump.  My lip starts quivering knowing that this is the start of the end.  I jump as Bobby throws his arm over me.

“Don’t worry, we can get out of this together.” Bobby smirks at me before holding me tighter for a side hug. “Only one of us can win, but I’m going to get you out of the arena alive.”

Words form on my lips before the Peacekeepers disperse to allow a tall, muscular and tattooed trainer walk into the room.

“I’m going to need everyone to follow me into the main training area.” He says, We walk into the room in single file in descending order of District with the female tribute first followed by the  male. The Room is huge, bigger than even the mayor’s house back home, weapons dot the room in their respective areas. “Welcome to the place where you will train for the next three days.”

Felix and the rest of the Game makers stand on a balcony overlooking the entire training process.  Indulging in capitol snacks and alcoholic beverages, almost mocking the rest of us showing that they get to relax while we must train for our lives.

“I’m the head trainer, my name is Zinc Thorneshire, don’t forget it.” Zinc’s commanding voice even evokes the careers into a sense of fear. “I would like to say how you train is up to you, but don’t ignore survival skills because by next week, half of you are going to be dead.”

I look around at the other tributes, each of them have a small somewhat scared expression.  The Careers, Mainly Senna and the District Two girl, eye up Bobby.  Are they attracted to him? Do they want to kill him first?  Is he going to be one of the rare non-career district careers?  Bobby is oblivious to the girls staring at him, eyeing him like he’s an always rare turkey in the District Seven market.

“I would like to explain that there is a no tolerance rule on attacking other tributes, You will have plenty of time for that in the arena.” Zinc points towards the careers like they always harm tributes before the game begin. “Three strikes and you are out”

Everyone starts to disperse, heading over to throw knives, climb monkey bars or paint their skin for camouflage.  I watch Bobby saunter over to the throwing knives training section, I try and follow close behind him so I’m not a loner left in the mud.

“Welcome to the throwing knives section!” One of the trainers placed three knives into Bobby’s hand.  The District 2 girl stands at one of the stations with rows of human shaped cut outs with targets on the face and body.  She turns and looks at me, smiles before throwing a knife right at the bullseye on the furthest away target, she did that all without looking.  She starts walking back to the back of the line behind me.  Bobby walks forward leaving me and this knife throwing machine in isolation.

“Aren’t you district seven kids meant to throw axes?” She whispers into my ear.  She sends shivers down my spine. “You don’t even look like you could hurt a fly...I can’t wait until the actual games begin.”

Luckily Bobby finishes throwing his knives quickly, Each knife hit a target.  Before I'm called forward one of the girls starts shouting.  “Raleigh, over here!” I turn and see Senna waving in our direction.

“I’ll be over in a second.” Raleigh says, still standing behind me, “Just gotta show people who will run the arena this year.”

I’m handed 3 knives and get told to move forward onto the X. Three targets appear out of thin air, I recoil back dropping the knives on the floor.  I can hear Raleigh laughing from the queue.  A tear rolls down my cheek, I'm so embarrassed.  Bobby rushes over and picks up the knives I dropped.

“Hey, don’t let her get you down.” He puts an arm around me “She won’t be laughing when you throw a knife at her from the trees, let me help you.”

Bobby shows me the technique before letting me actually throw a knife at the targets.  Each time he jolts forward to do a practice throw, his slightly wet jet black hair flows down and covers his bronze eyes.  After a couple of fake throws, Bobby hands the knives back to me.  I reposition myself properly before throwing my first knife.  It hurdles through the air, before gracefully hitting the stomach region of the target.

“You did it!” Bobby throws his arms back round me encasing me in a small little side hug. “All you gotta do is throw the other two knives.”

I throw the first of the final knives at the target.  It lodges itself into the chin area just below the actual target.  As I hold my arm up to throw the final knife, I feel someone grab hold of my arm to drag it down by force.  I drop the knife and turn to face the culprit.

Her light brown skin glimmers in the training room light, she’s trying to intimidate me, show the others that the career pack will run the arena.

“Kinni, Leave the poor girl alone!” A boy who I can only assume is her district partner walks over and releases me from Kinni’s tight grip.

“I want to show that District Four is the strongest district!” Kinni says through gritted teeth “Besides, I’m just having a laugh.” She pushes the boy into me, which in turn sends me into Bobby.  The boy regains his balance before turning around to face me directly.

“I’m sorry about her, she’s just on edge.” He says wiping sweat from his eyebrow “I’m Dillon, Don’t worry, I'll try and keep the rest of the career tributes in line.”

He walks off as words form at the edge of my tongue.  Bobby’s face says it all, total confusion.

Why would a career want to keep his fellow careers in check?  They thrive on mind games and harassing the other tributes, it’s one of the many things the districts see during the games.  I try to regain focus on training.  After a couple of missing knives and one managing to get lodged in the ceiling I decide to leave the throwing knife station.

Watching the rest of the tributes train really puts everything into perspective.  The games weren't only designed as a punishment to the districts, but also used to show the Capitol the skills that the districts possess.  As I’m lost in thought I mistakenly bump into what felt like a brick wall.

“Watch where you’re going!” She turns around, Her deep voice and bulky build almost send me into tears.  She throws her arm in the air ready to punch me square in the jaw.  I flinch back and close my eyes waiting for the devastating blow coming my way.

“Hey!” Zinc’s prominent voice booms around the room “You will have plenty of time to fight in the arena, I will have no fighting in my training hall, Do I make myself clear?”

She lowers her clenched fist.  “Sorry sir, Just got a bit worked up.” She looks at me almost to apologise.  I feel like I've found an enemy in the careers and whoever this girl is.  Bobby rushes over to see if I'm alright.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” He holds me in a slight embrace “Everyone is here to get us, but once we’re in that arena, I'll make sure nothing hurts you.”

Tears start rushing down my face staining Bobby’s shirt.  One piece of paper out of thousands that Martie picked just happened to be the one signed ‘Darcie Hilton’.

The rest of training I spend almost glued to Bobby’s side.  His warmth just makes me feel safe, Now that I've just met him and knowing he worked with my father back home makes me question why I never knew him to begin with.  He’s a year older than me, goes to the same school and if he works with my dad, most likely lives in the same area of district seven as me.

“Alright, Swords, Knives, Paintbrushes down!” Zinc silences the room “Training for the day is over, remember to show up at ten AM sharp!  You don’t want to miss out on any training as you will be having your private session to impress our fabulous game makers before the week is up! Enjoy your night.”

Everyone rushes for the elevator to get back to their floors.  Senna and her district partner push past everyone.

“Everyone move! A Legacy tribute is coming through.” Legacy tributes have been a fairly new idea, only coming around during the last years games when District Two tribute Gadge Heath entered the games ten whole years after his brother won, to say Gadge made last year one of the bloodiest games so far would be an understatement.

The elevator doors fling open letting Senna walk in guiding her partner into the elevator “Goodbye everyone!  Can’t wait to see you guys tomorrow!” She blows a kiss in our direction before the doors thankfully close.

After a couple of minutes, it’s our turn to ride the elevator up to floor seven.  As the door closes, I turn to Bobby, his hair is being held up by the sweat produced from the archery station.

“So, what was this about district thirteen?” I ask trying to loop back to what he said this morning

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell anyone.” Bobby extends his arm to initiate a pinkie promise, I accept before he speaks again “Well, everyone knows about the District 13 bombings and how their state is on hourly broadcast right?”

I nod in agreement

“Well, my friends and I have reason to believe that those broadcasts are fake.” I shoot him a concerned look, but the doors to the suite open before he can continue.

As we go to step out Martie rapidly grabs our arms and drags us to the seating area where our mentors and stylists are patiently waiting. Bobby and I are placed in our seats ready for Martie to start talking

“I am happy to announce that at the moment, Bobby has one of the best odds of winning!” Martie twirls to face the plasma screen TV to reveal the current odds of all the tributes, “Look here, District 7 Male, Odds, 3-1.”

Everyone is taken aback by Bobby’s achievements, I knew he would have high odds the second he stepped on stage, but not career odds.

“That’s better than both the District 2 and 4 tributes!” Bobby stands up and punches the air in excitement “And it’s the same as the District 1 Male!”

I feel a sense of sorrow and enviousness flush over me.  I can’t compete with Bobby, he could always get me to the finals with those odds, but when it comes down to just us, he would over-power me every time.  While everyone celebrates with Bobby I glance over to my odds, District 7 Female, Odds, 45-1.

My eyes start to swell. Knowing my own district partner is stronger than me is one thing, but the fact that sponsors will focus most of their energy on him eats me up inside.  Hannah passes me a handmade handkerchief from her hand bag.

“Guys maybe we should bring everything down a bit.” Fauna breaks up the boy’s excitement for Bobby “We have two tributes to look after and we gotta treat both of them the same.”

“You’re right, Sorry Darcie.” Bobby’s voice falls “We’re a team and I believe we should be treated like one.”

Bobby sits down next to me and wraps his arm around me to console me.  Silence once again falls upon the suite.  Everything feels off, nobody knows what to say, nobody knows what to do.

“Well…” Martie claps his hands together breaking the silence.  “It’s getting late, Maybe we should grab a bite to eat and head to bed. We have a long day tomorrow!”

I skip food altogether and head straight to my bedroom, shutting the door, changing into something I can sleep in before collapsing on the delicate bedding before closing my eyes before I can cry.


End file.
